


honeysuckle

by sharkfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Asexual Character, Asexuality, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Dean Winchester, Kissing, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Naked Cuddling, Nesting, Omega Dean, Recreational Drug Use, Scent Marking, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19130983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: “Your omega’s here, ok? Everything’s ok.”Cas closes his eyes and leans a little into Dean’s solid warmth. His omega is here. He can smell them all over each other already.“You made me such a nice nest, too.” Dean’s voice is low, honeyed and soft. He smells sweeter, it hangs thick and heavy in the air. “Show me.”





	honeysuckle

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to darlings [jemariel](http://jemariel.tumblr.com) and [casbean](http://casbean.tumblr.com) for assistance

_ Leave a message for  _ Dean Winchester  _ after the beep.  _

“Hello, Dean. This is Castiel — Cas. We met at Charlie’s birthday party, and I —” Cas takes a deep breath. “I need to ask you a favor. You can ignore this, or — you can call me back.” Cas wonders if he can delete and try a new message with even more practice so he doesn’t sound like a fool. “Thanks.” 

Cas is wired and tries to channel it into cleaning his entire house, though in the end he’s probably doing more restless pacing than cleaning. 

The phone rings, interrupting the podcast playing on the speaker.  _ Incoming call. Incoming call. Incoming call.  _

“Hello,” Cas says. 

“Hey,” Dean says. “Is everything ok?” 

They’ve only met the once. Talked a bit in a stoner circle, but Dean is gregarious and Cas is not, so it wasn’t long before he was dragged away while Cas hid in the corner with the more introverted party attendees. 

Despite that, Dean sounds worried, like Cas is a friend. “Oh, yes,” Cas says. “Everything is fine.” 

Dean lets out a relieved sigh. “Good. I was kind of freaking out. What’s up?” 

“Charlie gave me your number. I hope that’s ok.” 

“Yeah, she said I might hear from you.” 

“This is humiliating for me to ask,” Cas says, deciding to stick with honestly. “And may very well be humiliating for you as well. I —” Cas doesn’t have to say this often, and there’s always a rush of fear when he does. “I’m asexual. And my rut is starting. I don’t like sex. I just need…” 

“An omega.” 

“Yes.” 

“For what exactly, if not all the fucking?” 

Cas closes his eyes. His manic cleaning was partially trying to be presentable for a possible mate. While he was pacing, he imagined Dean laughing in the kitchen. He imagined exchanging scent marks. Kissing, maybe, in the nest he compulsively made in his bed. He imagined being connected to Dean by touch for days. “Just to be here.” 

“Just hanging out?” 

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” Cas says, suddenly realizing how idiotic this whole idea is. “I hope you have a good —” 

“Hold up,” Dean says. “Text me your address. I’ll bring beer and weed.” 

 

As soon as Cas opens the door, Dean sways into his house, pressing the back of his hand to Cas’s forehead. The unimpeded scent of him hits Cas like a train. “Hey there, alpha,” Dean says with a smile. 

Distantly, Cas can feel the prickle when his eyes go red, but he’s more focused on nuzzling into Dean’s wrist. Familiarizing himself with Dean, the sweetness of his scent. “Hey,” Dean says again, softer. “This your first time?” 

“Third,” Cas says. 

“You’re a pro then. You want a beer?” 

“Oh!” Cas says. “Apologies.” He takes the box from under Dean’s arm and busies himself shutting and locking the door, proving to himself that he can step outside of Dean’s orbit. He thought an omega would calm him, but right now his thoughts are swirling around all the ways he’s failed as an alpha. He considers telling Dean just to leave before he mortifies himself further. 

“You should —” Cas even starts, but Dean flashes him a grin and kicks off his boots before going deeper into the house. 

“This is a nice place,” Dean says, dropping his bag on the floor and pulling out a small box with his weed kit in it. “Put that in the fridge and I’ll pack a bowl.” 

“No — let me,” tumbles out of Cas’s mouth before he can think about it. 

“It’s your show,” Dean says, sitting on the couch with one of his legs pulled under him. He’s impossibly alluring and it’s difficult to leave him for the kitchen. Cas reminds himself that Dean wants a beer, and that’s something Cas can do for him, for the minute he spends in the kitchen fumbling with a can opener. 

Dean’s texting furiously when Cas rejoins him and it makes Cas’s heart sink, but Dean tosses his phone aside and smiles easily. “Thanks. I didn’t even ask what you like, but I wanted to be quick.” 

“Shiner is always a solid choice,” Cas says. He takes a bigger drink than he should before pulling his own supplies out of the drawer in his coffee table. He rolls a joint, efficient and precise, and Dean whistles when he holds it out. “For you.” 

Dean laughs and lights up. Cas is a little smitten with his smile and stares a little too intensely as Dean exhales the first hit. “Do you like touching? Kissing?” 

“Yes.”

“Cool,” Dean says. He takes a second hit, a long one, and then gestures for Cas to lean closer. 

Their mouths don’t actually touch, but they’re connected by smoke for the briefest moments, and Dean’s a little hazy-eyed when they part. He hands the joint over to Cas, and Cas inhales as much as he can without coughing. They get closer this time so that Cas feels the brush of Dean’s lips as they exchange breath. 

“Just warning you,” Dean says. “I’m actually kind of a lightweight.” 

It’s easier to laugh as the high sets in. “I didn’t expect that of you.” 

“I can hold my whiskey, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not at your level with pot.” Dean must see Cas’s confusion and he clarifies, “I was trying to keep up with you at that party, and it was like you’re cool as a cucumber while I made an idiot of myself.” 

“That’s not how I remember it,” Cas says. He remembers Dean starting to slouch towards him, enough that Cas got a whiff of his scent. He remembers saying the kind of things he always does that end up with people finding excuses to leave the conversation, the kind of things he’s desperately tried to train himself out of but never succeeded for long. Except Dean smiled when Cas talked, at least until he ended up finding a better conversation himself. 

“Yeah, well.” They both settle back into the couch, touching at shoulder and knee, as they pass the joint back and forth. Even the smell of burning weed isn’t enough to overpower Dean’s honeysuckle scent. “You’re really smart, and I’m not so much, especially when stoned.” 

Cas frowns. “Aren’t you a data analyst?” 

“Not a good one.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Cas says.

“You’re ridiculous,” Dean says back, sliding his hand down Cas’s thigh. “What exactly did you tell Charlie that made her tell you to call me?” 

It’s shame that prickles Cas’s eyes this time. “My first two ruts were — not good.” And Charlie makes it easy to say things he wouldn’t otherwise, like when he identified himself as ace and her response was to punch him in the arm and say  _ that’s awesome, dude.  _ “I spoke about some of my — struggles — with Charlie.” 

“Were you alone the last couple of times?” 

Cas looks down, but now he’s looking at Dean’s hand casually resting on his knee. “Yes.” 

“Services can’t meet your requests?” Cas shudders and Dean laughs. “Yeah, that kinda freaks me out too. Though sometimes necessary.” 

Cas thinks about Dean, wanton in the sheets during his heats. It makes him flush in a way that is a little foreign, and without being sure he’s brave enough to, he puts his hand over Dean’s. 

“Charlie told you that I’m skilled at doing movie marathons and ordering take-out all weekend?” 

“She said you’re a good cook as well.” 

“I get it,” Dean says, eyes bright with laughter. “You’re  _ that  _ kind of alpha. Gotta warn you, I don’t do the barefoot and pregnant part.” 

Cas leans forward — Dean’s hand drifts to his back, sliding up and down his spine — and rolls another joint.  _ This  _ is the part where an omega calms him, when his heart has stopped pounding erratically and he can enjoy Dean’s touch. 

“I’m mostly ace too, if Charlie didn’t mention,” Dean says. 

Cas fumbles the grinder and scatters weed over the table. “You’re what?” 

“Demi, I guess.” 

Cas turns and stares at him. “You didn’t feel the need to lead with that?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“I guess it doesn’t. I’m just surprised.” 

Dean leans forward until they’re face to face again, slides his hand into Cas’s hair and kisses his cheek. The scent of him is overwhelming, makes things happen in Cas that he doesn’t understand.  “You didn’t lead with it either. Maybe I would’ve flirted harder.” 

Cas’s eyes burn briefly, and when he hands over the fresh joint and lighter, he realizes Dean’s have faded from green to grey. He’s never inspired that in anyone before and it makes his breath catch, wondering what’s happening inside of Dean to trigger it. 

“Full disclosure, Charlie knew I kind of had a crush on you.” Dean blushes as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “Uh. I talk too much when I’m high. Clearly.” 

“Clearly,” Cas says. “Can I scent you?” 

Dean tilts his head in a clear invitation and Cas leans into him, drawn by instinct to the tender scent glands under his jaw. “Fuck,” Dean says under his breath. “You smell good.” 

“You too,” Cas says, pressing his face into him. His fingers catch on Dean’s t-shirt as he slides his hand up his side, and there’s a moment of skin-on-skin that makes him hot all over. 

“You can bite if you want,” Dean says quietly. 

Cas growls low in his throat, hand squeezing tighter on Dean’s hip, and nuzzles his way down Dean’s neck. Blooms in spring, intoxicating. Cas feels a sudden rush of protective possessiveness.  _ His  _ omega, covered in his scent. 

Cas nips — gentle, nervous — at the side of Dean’s neck. He can feel Dean’s pulse racing, and there’s something happening in his scent that’s making Cas a little crazy. The smell of arousal has always made Cas scrunch his nose in distaste, like fish going bad, but this is different. It’s not arousal exactly, but needy and aching all the same. 

“Kiss me,” Dean says. 

Dean tastes like smoke, like sin, and he whimpers as he opens his mouth under Cas’s. Cas likes kissing for the most part, but this is something else. It must be just his senses starting to go haywire, drunk with a want for touch. 

When they part, Dean’s pink-flushed and silver-eyed, and he gives Cas a smile that’s soft and bashful. “I’m glad you called me.” 

“Me too,” Cas says. 

Cas is going back for another kiss when his stomach rumbles so loud that Dean bursts into giggles. “Good thing there’s no sexy mood for your bodily functions to ruin,” Dean says. 

Cas bites — rougher this time — at Dean’s jaw in admonishment, but Dean just keeps giggling until Cas puts a hand over his mouth, doing his best for a stern expression. “Behave.” 

Cas can see the wrinkles around Dean’s eyes deepen as his smile grows. His speech is muffled into incoherency by Cas’s hand. Dean’s scent is so strong, something flaring as Cas holds him against the back of the couch. Cas hopes desperately that he’ll be able to scent Dean this clearly even out of rut. 

He pulls his hand back and Dean says, “Ok, alpha. I’ll be good.” 

Cas lurches forward and only barely, at the last moment, stops himself from digging his teeth into his omega’s neck. A hard claim, tasting the copper of Dean’s blood. 

“We need —” Dean says, voice cracking. “We need food.” 

Cas nods into Dean’s throat, leaves a soft kiss where he almost sunk his teeth in. “We can order just about anything. What would you like?” 

“You’re the one who’s going to be needin’ the calories. You’re starting to get pretty warm.” 

Presumptuous but having trouble denying himself, Cas slides his hand under Dean’s shirt to touch the softness of his belly. Cas may be an alpha after all, because he no longer feels any hesitation in his need to cover his omega with his touch and scent. 

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, stroking his fingers through his hair. “Tacos? Steak, Chinese? What’re you in the mood for?” 

“You,” Cas says, but makes himself sit back. Dean’s eyes are silver, almost glowing. “I know a good Korean place.” 

While they wait for delivery, Cas presses Dean down onto the couch with his weight and tucks under his chin where he can nuzzle and kiss at his neck. 

“Is this,” Cas starts, then isn’t sure how to continue. “Is this what sexual attraction feels like?” 

Dean’s laugh rumbles under Cas’s chest. “I may not be the best person to ask. But I dunno, what do you feel like?” 

“Like I can’t wait to get you to my nest and touch you.” 

Dean’s quiet for a long moment and his scent goes a little stale in the air. “Well. Not to be a buzzkill, but — I’m not interested in sex right now.” 

Cas hoists himself up on an elbow, clumsily, to look at Dean. “No, of course not — that’s not what I meant. But I’m…” 

Dean strokes his fingers through Cas’s hair, smiles a little. “There’s a lot going on with you right now. I know things get weird with me when I’m in heat. Once I told Charlie I would marry her if she liked guys.” 

“What did she say?” Cas says, holding in a laugh. 

“That I was a moron for thinking she would want to marry me, regardless of my gender.” 

Cas lets out the laugh, and he can scent that Dean’s relieved by it, which is the right thing. His omega should feel relaxed and adored and Cas is determined to do it right. “And she only dates alphas,” Cas says. 

“You’re breaking my heart.” Dean leans his head up so he can kiss the tip of Cas’s nose. “I’m cool with the touching in the nest thing, by the way. After we eat.” 

A tingle of delight zips down Cas’s spine. He can imagine Dean naked in his bed, the glow of a lamp showing off Cas’s marks on his neck. He imagines the way he’ll be able to scent them, together, in his sheets for a long time. He imagines Dean tipping his head back to laugh, squirming against the pillows with joy. 

The doorbell rings. Cas separates himself from Dean, stumbling a little. “Do I stink?”

“Baby, this whole place smells like an alpha about to get his freak on. Not much you can do about it now.” 

Cas scowls at Dean, but by the time he opens the door, he’s flushed with shame. The delivery driver says nothing but  _ Have a good one, man _ with no leer in his voice. 

“I bet a huge amount of their business is mating cycle deliveries,” Dean says. “Kitchen or here?” 

Cas sits next to him in answer and starts unpacking their bento boxes. Dean scoots closer until they’re pressed together from knee to shoulder, even though it makes their elbows knock together as they eat. 

Dean was right — Cas is  _ starving.  _ He even finishes off Dean’s, though he suspects Dean is faking being full just so Cas can have more. Cas insists on cleaning up, batting Dean’s hands away.

After getting rid of the trash, Cas hovers instead of sitting back down. Dean smiles warmly up at him and says, “Wanna go cuddle in your nest?”  

_ “Our  _ nest,” Cas says before he can stop himself, and he’s relieved when Dean’s smile grows. Cas takes his hand and leads him down the hall, heart pounding. He’s afraid that his mate won’t like the nest he made for them. Shaking-cold afraid, even though he knows it’s irrational. 

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing up against Cas’s back before he can turn. He gives a quick rub to the round of Cas’s shoulders, then slides his hands all the way down Cas’s arms to hold both of his hands. Dean nuzzles into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Your omega’s here, ok? Everything’s ok.” 

Cas closes his eyes and leans a little into Dean’s solid warmth. His omega is here. He can smell them all over each other already. 

“You made me such a nice nest, too.” Dean’s voice is low, honeyed and soft. He smells sweeter, it hangs thick and heavy in the air. “Show me.” 

Cas forces an inhale and steps aside so Dean can get a clear view of Cas’s bed, shoved in the corner and nearly swallowed by pillows and blankets, all navy or grey. Dean gives Cas a huge smile and says, “You’re so fucking cute.” 

“Thank you,” Cas says. He was so focused on Dean that he didn’t notice when his eyes turned, but Dean’s have been sterling for so long that Cas hardly remembers the usual shade of green. 

“Clothes on or off?” 

With an alpha’s lack of hesitation, Cas says, “Off.” 

Dean’s nostrils flare and when he pulls off his shirt, Cas sees his blush spreads down to his chest, endearingly splotchy. Jeans next, and it occurs to Cas that this is the first man he’s seen naked outside of locker rooms and the too-many-kids-in-too-small-of-a-house of his childhood. 

Underwear next, Dean glancing shly at Cas, who doesn’t know where this sudden bashfulness came from. Then again, Cas doesn’t know where his own commandeering came from. Dean’s so beautiful, and Cas can’t wait to rub their scents together, can’t wait for Dean to stumble out of his socks and pushes him into the bed instead. Not hard, but insistent, and Dean goes willingly, landing flat on his back. 

Dean grins and pulls Cas into the nest with him. There’s a fumbling of limbs and laughter as they undress Cas, but they end up nose to nose on their sides, legs tangled. Dean murmurs, “I like your eyes.” 

“Which ones?” 

“Do you have more that I don’t know about?” 

Cas rolls his eyes. “Which color.” 

“Both of them,” Dean says. 

“I like yours too. Both.” 

“Good,” Dean says, “because I got a feeling you’ll be seeing me wearing grey a lot this weekend.” 

Dean tilts his head back, showing Cas his throat, and Cas goes for it immediately, gentle bites with sharp teeth that make Dean gasp. Cas feels an inescapable need — sharp like anger, but really just a fierce need to possess and protect his omega. To worship him. To claim him, head to toe, starting with a harsher bite to the side of Dean’s neck. He can see the faint impression of teeth marks after, but they fade fast. 

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathes. Cas looks up at him and can tell he’s scent-drunk, bond-drunk. Because, no matter how brief, he’s in Cas’s bed now. Cas’s wanting is separate from Dean’s scent but just as heavy. 

Cas leaves soft kisses across Dean’s shoulder, pausing to rub his cheek on occasion just for good measure. In that moment, he adores every inch of Dean, even the ones unknown to him.

Dean sighs and whispers nonsense as Cas explores with hands and mouth and nose. He smells strongest between his legs, and Cas pauses for a long moment just to breathe with his face pressed into Dean’s goin, until Dean flinches and he pulls away. “Sorry,” Cas says, hands skimming their way back up Dean’s body to nip at his neck and then kiss him. “You smell so good.” 

“Do I get to mark you?” 

Cas’s heart flutters. “If you’d like, of course.” 

Dean pushes Cas over on his back and props himself up on an elbow to look him over, slowly with an appraising gaze. “It would be very difficult to be in a gorgeous alpha’s nest and not want to claim him a little.” 

A hard shudder runs through Cas and he closes his eyes as Dean presses kisses to his throat. Cas knows instinctively that only his omega is allowed to put teeth so close to his jugular. “You can bite me,” Cas whispers. 

Cas can almost taste the change in Dean’s scent on the air, licks his lips like he can find more of it there. Dean nuzzles against the side of his neck and then bites  _ hard.  _ No broken skin, but maybe only because his teeth are blunter than Cas’s. 

Cas touches Dean’s hair, pulls a little because this feeling has to come out somehow, as Dean kisses the bite marks, gentle and a little wet. “Holy shit,” Dean says, muffled against Cas’s neck. “Goddamn, you smell good. Taste good, too.” 

Dean follows Cas’s lead and moves down his body, nuzzling and rubbing, biting  _ hard  _ occasionally, not so many kisses. Cas doesn’t want to ever remove Dean’s scent from his skin, and out of nowhere, he’s purring, which hasn’t happened since he was a kid. . 

“Mm,” Dean says, leaving a kiss on Cas’s chest where he must feel the rumble of it. “Happy alpha, huh?” 

Cas knows what happy feels like, and this isn’t it. This is blindingly bright and dangerously sharp, soothed by the touch and soft scent of his omega. He’s given up on correcting himself every time he thinks  _ mine.  _

“Flip over,” Dean says. 

It takes a moment before Cas can remember what words mean, and then he turns over. Dean straddles across his thighs, bends to leave a kiss at the small of Cas’s back and then moving up his spine. Goosebumps rise on Cas’s arms. He’s still purring and can feel Dean’s smile against the nape of his neck. 

“You’re a little keyed up,” Dean says, “and I give a good massage.” 

“Sounds nice,” Cas says. 

Dean gives a sharp nip to Cas’s shoulder and then starts there, kneading slowly downwards. Cas sighs, and it feels like hours before Dean makes it to his lower lower back, working his thumbs in slow circles. Cas is lulled into something like a trance, no thoughts at all, just breathing the combined scent of them deep into his lungs. 

Dean lays down next to Cas and he turns on his side immediately to pull Dean into his arms, foreheads pressed together. Cas murmurs, “You’re perfect.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Dean says. Cas can hear in his voice that he’s blushing. 

Cas kisses him. Dean kisses back and pulls him even closer, pressed close all down their bodies. “So,” Dean says, after many — or maybe just a single long one — kisses, “I know you’re not exactly in the right mind to answer right now, but when you’re out of rut, I’m going to ask you to dinner.” 

Cas snaps to full awareness, pulling back enough to see Dean’s face. “Really?” 

“Yeah. No pressure, I just wanted to give you a head’s up.” 

“I would love to,” Cas says, a little too quickly. “That answer won’t change.” 

Dean grins and then kisses Cas before he can smile back. Kisses him again, and then again. 

Cas hadn’t been entirely honest with Charlie when he talked about his previous ruts. Hadn’t said that he goes through phases of manic cleaning mixed with crying. Anger he didn’t have an outlet for. Skin crawling with bugs. It didn’t matter how much he lowered the temperature on the thermostat, the fever kept spiking. He only said that things might be better if someone was around. 

He never imagined that it might be Dean, that it might feel like this to hold him, back to chest, their fingers laced together. He revels in each touch. He bites marks onto Dean’s neck, returns to kiss them often. Dean smiles a lot. 

And, eventually, they even watch a movie or two. 

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) on tumblr
> 
> i'm bad at answering comments but every single one is so precious to me and keeps me going on the rough days! <3 thank you for being here!


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